


you know i've got to get away (and run, leave you behind)

by Lou87



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/F, Introspection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lou87/pseuds/Lou87
Summary: What's left unsaid will kill you.





	you know i've got to get away (and run, leave you behind)

**Author's Note:**

> A little one-shot set at an undefined point in the future. Once again, apologies for any silly mistakes.

They avoid each other as much as they can in a small village. 

They can go weeks without seeing each other if Charity manages to schedule the nursery drop-off just right and Vanessa decides on a glass of wine at home rather than in the pub.

But Charity still has the ring in her bedside table drawer and she still dreams of Vanessa at night; the shape of her hips and her smile and how it feels to have Vanessa underneath her. Sometimes, she dreams of bickering about the washing up or cuddling on the sofa and when she wakes up, just for a moment, she thinks her life is how it was, how it _should_ be.

But there's an empty space next to her in bed and her heart aches in a way she never thought it could.

*

It's a quiet afternoon in the pub; the lunchtime crowd has slowly petered out and she knows she's bored when she's resorted to eavesdropping on a somewhat bizarre conversation between Rishi and Eric. She's doodling on a crossword that she's got very little interest in completing when Tracy appears at the bar with an unusually downcast expression. 

"You alright?" She asks, sauntering over, relieved of the company. She's been able to keep somewhat of a friendship with Tracy but it's like a small torture, digging at her and reminding her of what she's lost, the eccentric little family that they built together. 

Tracy looks at her with sad eyes, managing a strained smile, "Er, not really, no," 

Charity frowns in response; Tracy looks like she wants to say something, that she's on the edge of explaining it but she sees Tracy coil back into herself and remain silent, "You want to talk about it or...?" 

Tracy bites her lip, clearly unsure, "I don't know if I should," She fiddles with the beer mat, her eyes darting up to meet Charity's and then back down to the bar.

"Okay, well, let me know if you want to talk..." 

She's about to move back to her unfinished crossword when Tracy whispers, "V's leaving,"

There's a moment where Charity feels like she must have entered a parallel universe because she can barely believe the words she's hearing and her stomach lurches painfully, "What?" She barely manages to utter, her voice whispers with her heart racing, "What do you mean she's _leaving_?"

Tracy leans forward, her tone low, trying to keep their conversation private, "She got offered this job in London," She sighs dramatically and Charity feels her eyes watching her carefully, "Great money, good prospects...a _new start_ ," Tracy adds and Charity feels guilt throbbing in her veins.

"She, er, she’s accepted it then?" She's not supposed to ask; they aren't together anymore and she knows that the responsibility for that is her own, that she reverted to type and wrecked everything that meant anything to her. 

"Yeah," She sighs in response, "She hasn't got anything round here anymore has she?" The pointedness bites at Charity and she feels her hackles rise.

"Trace...." Charity warns, "This isn't my fault,"

"Isn't it?" Tracy glares, her eyes full of simmering fire, "You not going to stop her then?" Tracy shrugs, "So you just don't care?"

"It's not my business to care," Charity tells her, her eyes quickly glancing over the pub, wary of any listening ears.

"It's not your business?" Tracy questions her with a roll of her eyes, "So you don't love her then?"

And there's a beat of silence, a moment where she knows she could lie and obfuscate and be dishonest but she can't bear to say the words out loud, "We aren't together," Charity says instead and she can feel Tracy appraise her curiously, "I can't do anything."

"Oh right, so you're fine with the fact she's moving away? That she's going to meet someone else, is that what you want? She's going to forget about her life here, y'know?" Tracy's words are tinged with anger and Charity understands it; she's the reason that Tracy is losing her sister, "She's going to forget about you and me, she's going to meet someone else and it'll be like this place never existed,"

Unwanted images flash through Charity's mind; of Vanessa making a life without her, of another woman holding her hand, of another woman at the altar making Vanessa smile like she's the only person in the world. There'll be some other woman stealing the life that was meant for her.

Tracy's gone by the time she comes back to herself, the intense nausea in her stomach subsiding to that low familiar ache that she'd thought she'd learnt to live with, a constant pain since the breakup, her body feeling empty of a piece that belongs there.

She knows now that she's losing it all.

*

For the rest of the afternoon she's on auto pilot; the faces of the locals merge into one and she couldn't name a single person that she had spoken to. Her body moves like a robot, an imitation of herself, and she waits desperately for the moment when she can drink until she can forget.

The third glass of wine barely dulls the pain and she's so sad, so alone, so fucking desperate that she can't even cry. She’s on the sofa in the backroom when feels a hand on her shoulder, _Chas_ , and she grits her teeth, silently begging to be left alone. Chas, always full of good intentions, sits next to her on the sofa, nodding at the two wine bottles next to each other.

"Something’s happened then?” Her cousin’s voice rankles; she wants solitude so she can carry on reminding herself what a horrific excuse for a human being she is, how she's able to drive away the kindest person she's ever met and make her hate her so much she has to flee the life she used to love, “I take it you’re not okay?”

"Yeah, well, I will be soon," Charity responds eventually, pulling out the whisky bottle from next to her.

Chas groans lightly, "I really don't think that this will help whatever you're upset about,"

Charity shrugs lazily, "It'll help me not remember it though won't it?" Her words are loose and starting to slur as Chas rubs her arm gently, "Vanessa..." Charity has to pause, the words stick in her throat as if saying them out loud will make it more real, "She's leaving,"

Chas' hand stops moving suddenly, "Ah, yeah, I heard,"

"What?" Charity turns to face her aghast, "Did _everyone_ know except me?" 

"Paddy mentioned it, that's all," Chas tries to console her again and Charity dodges the touch.

"And you weren't going to tell me at any point then?" Charity shakes her head in disbelief as Chas tries to defend herself.

"I didn't know what to say did I?" Chas explains hurriedly, "Can't exactly slip into conversation over breakfast that the woman you love is upping sticks and going,"

Charity's anger slowly melts away; she knows the ire she feels is really directed at herself, that she deserves all of it. She falls back onto the sofa cushion, pulling her knees up in front of her and a quiet sob comes shuddering from her lips.

"Chas, I...." She starts, her head falling forward and she feels her cousin's hand on her shoulders now; it's strangely soothing and her chest heaves out of nowhere. Tears start to fall and she's so broken, so tired of pretending that she's okay that she lets them run down her face. 

"Oh sweetheart," She hears Chas murmur as Charity rubs her face with her hand, choking about another sigh. 

"I can't lose her," Charity manages to utter, Chas' arm around her and she's trying to curl in to a little ball, like if she could only just make herself as small as possible then she can forget about all of it, forget what she's done, forget who she _is_ , "I've been praying that I can win her back, that I can show her I'm a good person, that I deserve her,"

Chas murmurs something that Charity’s sure is comforting but she can't hear through the mess of thoughts rushing through her brain, the overwhelming sense of pain.

"But she leaves and that's it," Charity shakes her head to herself, "That's everything _over_. I'll have lost her forever. I'll have lost the best thing that's ever happened to me,"

In the past, she would have pushed away the hug from Chas and the stroking of her hair; she would have resented the comforting words in her ear and the reassurances that she doesn't believe. She would have resisted the urge to cry in front of _anyone_ , to show any weakness at all because your weaknesses are where they get you, then use them as a weapon to bring you down. Except now, she feels everything and all she wants to turn back time and forget that she ever ruined her life quite this badly.

She lets the tears fall because she can't hide them anymore so she doesn't notice the creak on the floorboards outside the back room and she doesn't see Noah's hand on the door, listening.

*

When the door opens, she calls out a greeting from her position at the kitchen sink to whichever of her housemates has probably crept home early from work. Dishcloth in hand, Vanessa turns round to be faced with Noah standing awkwardly at the door to the living room.

"Oh hi," She smiles gently at him as he hovers at the armchair, looking unusually uncomfortable when he would normally, even now, slump on the sofa and ask her what's for dinner, "Didn't know you'd be over," She's grateful to see him, grateful that their relationship hasn't faltered or waned after she and Charity had split up. She had so desperately cultivated a bond with Noah, trying to be a parent and a friend, and after several false starts, they had built up something she had wanted so eagerly. His presence in her home had continued, eating pizza together and watching the awful superhero films he loved so much, carefully dancing around any mention of his mum, and playing with Johnny like everything wasn't just how it used to be.

"Yeah, well...." He moves slowly into the house properly, but his face is dark and sullen, "Heard you were leaving didn't I?" He pauses, almost as if to gauge the expression on her face, "Had to know if it were the truth."

She's surprised but she manages to nod in response, "I was going to tell you," She tries a smile but it isn't reciprocated, "I _was_ ,"

"What? When you were halfway down the M6 and realised you'd forgotten about me?" He asks her accusingly, his face stormy and in this moment, he looks so much like his mother, "Yeah thanks," He adds sarcastically and there’s a glare aimed in her direction. 

She moves towards him, gratified that he doesn't move away as her hand comes to rest on his shoulder, "I would _never_ forget about you" Vanessa emphasises each word, trying to impart truth in what she says.

"Forgotten about mum though haven't you?" He asks before he practically storms to the kitchen. She should take relief from this, that he's angry but still stays, still wants to be near her despite everything. But she can't help thinking that she has to answer, has to try and explain something she doesn't even understand herself. 

"I could never forget about your mum," She follows him, leaning against the kitchen worktop as he makes a drink, the sight of him still comfortable in her home almost brings her to tears. And there's a moment when she think he's going to leave it, that he's going to let the statement hang in the air. 

But he doesn't.

"Do you still love her?"

She's biting her cheek, willing herself not to cry, telling herself that she should be able to deal with this; she's a grown adult and relationships break down and she shouldn't fall apart like she has. And she knows that Noah trusts her because she hadn't lied to him, hadn't told him untruths to placate him and keep him quiet so she isn't going to start now, "I will never stop loving her," It comes out so easily and it's like a dagger to her heart, the certainty of it.

Noah looks at her intently, his gaze is curious and it's as though he's trying to pick out any dishonesty in her whispered response, "She still loves you too, y'know?"

Vanessa shakes her head roughly, her stomach tight with something she can't name, "I don't think we should be talking about this," She makes an attempt to walk back to the living room but he reaches out to hold her forearm to stop her; there's a gentle force to it, like she can choose to leave if she wants but also that he doesn't want her to avoid this, to get out of this without facing it. 

"I heard her," He tells her quietly, "With Chas,"

"What?" Vanessa doesn't want to ask; she's not making a clean break of their relationship at all; she's still so tied up in it all and she can't help but know, to hear that she’s not alone in this unending ache.

"I heard her crying with Chas," Noah says and he's hesitant in his words, unsure of his place, "I've never seen her like this, _ever_ ,"

Vanessa's heart clenches painfully, "Noah...."

"I thought it was different this time," He admits quietly, his eyes darting to the floor, "I thought you were different than everyone else, you made _her_ different," He pauses and looks at her; his normally impassive moody expression is gone and he looks so much like a little boy now, a child that she wished she could have helped to raise, "I thought we were supposed to be a family,"

The tears fall at that and she's past caring; she pulls him into a hug, this boy that had been so sullen and desperate to get away from her who now feels like one of her own, "We still will be," She tries to reassure him but it sounds like a lie even to herself, "It'll just be different, that's all,"

"Going to be a mum via Skype are you?" He asks with a bitter, angry tone as he pulls away from her embrace, roughly rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and she tries to not to let her heart cave in at " _mum_ " like it's not something she'd been hoping of for so long. 

"We can talk whenever you want, Noah, just because I'm not here, it doesn't change anything," She tries a positive tone, "And you can come and visit can't you? In the holidays? " 

"Right," She knows he isn't impressed; he's got that look on his face, reminiscent of when they were on opposite sides, when she was The Enemy, "I just don't get it," He shakes his head ruefully, "You love her and she loves you, why aren't you together?"

Vanessa swallows hard, unable to think of anything to say in response, because she knows there's nothing she can say anymore, "Grown up relationships aren't that easy Noah," She watches him carefully for a reaction, hoping it's enough.

"Grownups are stupid then," He says after a moment and she smiles lightly, "If I loved someone and they loved me then I'd be with 'em wouldn't I?" 

He leaves after a moment, hugging her tightly _("Promise me you'll say goodbye to me and Moz" he asks as if she could possibly leave without seeing them and her heart breaks for how much she's come to love these boys_ ) and Vanessa is left in the living room of Tug Ghyll, the place that she'd started to fall in love with Charity so many times, in so many ways and she's starting to feel absolutely, irretrievably broken. 

*

"Charity, a word?" 

Her voice cuts angrily through the din of the pub; it's after work for most of the locals now and The Woolpack is starting to fill with regulars eager for a beer, or several. But Vanessa hasn't touched her own, sat on the quieter end of the bar, Chas sending her sympathetic looks occasionally as her ex-fiancée throws her head back with laughter (it's fake, Vanessa knows) at some lame joke from some nameless outsider who's too flashy and too full of himself. 

Charity turns at the sound of her name, eyes full of emotions too varied to pick apart and she's got what she wanted no doubt; a reaction.

It's been a week since Vanessa saw Noah and she's been even more diligent in her avoidance, even more careful as she creeps around the village, desperate to evade any encounters that she doesn't know how to handle. And she isn't quite sure what Charity's doing now if what Noah said was true; she's all winks and innuendo, flirting heavily, seduction rolling off her in waves and yet she's got the strangest feeling that Charity would rather do anything else than go through with it, that she'd rather anything else than go to bed with the man who's naively convinced that he’s all she wants.

Vanessa nods towards the backroom and Charity follows her; Vanessa can sense it now, the smell of alcohol radiating from her and now that she's closer, standing in the lounge together, she can see it in her eyes; they're black with the meanness and callousness that can come so easily to Charity at times like this. 

"So you got over me that quick then eh?" It comes out before Vanessa can stop it; there's hurt and anger in her voice that she can't hide and Charity laughs roughly except it doesn't sound anything like a real laugh; it's hollow and empty and _sad._ It's a pretence and Vanessa knows that well.

"Oh, what like you did with that vet tech a month back?" Charity spits at her, a fire quickly burning.

Vanessa rolls her eyes, "Oh come on, nothing was going on with her and you know it," 

She's avoiding looking at the room which used to be her home; it's all the same as it was when she left and she can see a photo from the corner of her eye; it's of the five of them, grinning into the camera at the beach and she remembers being so _so_ happy then.

"Sure there wasn't," Charity huffs, standing at the back of the sofa, picking at a loose thread on a cushion and Vanessa wants to say something, anything, that might release them from this cycle that's wrapping them in bitterness.

"There wasn't," Vanessa's voice lowers and she tries to mute her anger, to cool the temper that threatens to run too hot, "There hasn't been anyone else," She adds in an almost whisper and Charity's eyes flick up but instead of what she expected (maybe something like relief) there's more fury.

"Well, don't worry," Charity’s voice is bitter and each word is tinged with acrimony, "I'm sure you'll find someone in London, very _quickly_ " 

Vanessa flares, low down inside her she sparks and rages, stepping towards Charity with an accusatory finger, "Oh what like you weren't letting that guy out there think you were up for it?"

"You've made it very clear... _Vanessa_ ," Her name is hissed like it's poison on Charity's tongue, "That you don't want me any more so maybe I should find someone who does,"

Vanessa moves ever closer now, so close that she can smell the wine but also Charity's perfume (the one Vanessa bought her for her birthday, after standing in the shop choosing for what felt like hours) and she can feel the heat radiating from her like a furnace, "You're drunk," She says flatly, "This isn't you talking,"

"Maybe it is," Charity retorts with a glare, "Maybe this is who I've always been," Charity leans in close, and Vanessa is able to feel every breath coming from her, "Maybe I just hid it very well,"

Now that Charity is almost completely pressed up against her, there’s that familiar pull that she's almost helpless to resist; she knows that she has to leave before she lets herself be pulled back under, into the warmth of Charity but where there's no happy ending, not any more.

Their eyes lock together and Vanessa's toes curl in anticipation of something she should have stopped wanting a long time ago, "I should go," She stammers finally and Charity's face falls instantly; she feels gratified at the response, relieved that it's not just her that's affected so strongly. 

"Vanessa...." She starts, her voice softer and now, instead of anger, there's something in Charity's eyes, beyond the alcohol and the frustration; it’s love and she's missed seeing it so much.

So when Charity's hand moves to her waist, and her forehead rests on her own, it seems like the easiest thing in the world to kiss her and not stop.

So she does.

*

Vanessa isn't sure how they make it to the bedroom; her hands keep finding Charity, her fingers twisting in clothing and grasping at every part of skin she can touch. Their kisses become increasingly frantic as they reach the confines of the bedroom and they undress each other with a remembered ease. She catches Charity looking at her in what feels like awe and she feels like she's home.

They make love slowly and quietly. 

Vanessa can hear the low murmur of the pub below them; the clanging of glasses and occasional loud guffaws. But all she can really hear is the pounding of her own heart as Charity snakes down her body and she's so desperate for a release.

She can't imagine anyone but Charity's hands on her.

Charity's tongue dips and swirls and teases and Vanessa's practically clawing out of herself, her body thrumming and tingling. 

She looks down and sees Charity between her thighs just as Charity glances upwards; and their eyes meet ( _just like their first time, when it felt like a light switching on and she knew she was changed forever_ ) and Vanessa chokes out a sob of sadness rather than ecstasy and suddenly Charity's right up next to her, reaching for her hand and intertwining them.

"Hey," She says softly, stroking the hair from her face and Vanessa realises it's the first words exchanged since they climbed all over each other in the pub living room, "You okay?" 

Vanessa nods and she manages a smile that she's sure Charity doesn't believe, "I'm fine," She whispers and she can't tear her eyes away from her; she should feel wary of the power that Charity still has over her, even after all these months, but she can't find it in herself to care. Vanessa's hand skims over Charity's body in a well-practiced dance and Charity groans in response to the touch but to Vanessa's surprise, she moves to avoid the contact.

"You first," She whispers, kissing her temple and Charity's hand brushes her waist and then her hips, darting lower and lower. They kiss slowly and messily, all tongues and unrestrained desire and Vanessa feels Charity's fingers move to where she needs them.

"Charity, please..." She sighs out, her body tensed and desperate, "Please,"

And Charity obeys, her fingers edging down until they brush gently over her. Charity pulls her lips away and Vanessa feels lost without the contact. She feels warm breath at her ear.

"Ness...I…"

_ (I love you) _

"Me too,"

_ (I love you too) _

Charity finally pushes inside her and Vanessa's body bends and arches and there are tears and she doesn't know whose and she can't believe that this is going to end, this little bubble where they're okay and happy and where she isn't losing the love of her life.

*

"I had sex with Charity," She says it before she realises; it practically leaps out of her mouth uncontrollably. Vanessa doesn't know if it's how cosy and safe Rhona's sofa is or if it’s the wine that she's probably already had too much of or even if it's the lack of sleep from being with Charity until the early hours, but she wants to say _something_ to make it real, like it happened and she isn't dreaming it all.

"You what?" Tracy looks practically gleeful and Vanessa dares a look at Rhona who is just watching her with a cautious eye, "So you're getting back together then?"

"No...I don't...I'm not sure," Tracy's face falls and her previous joy is replaced with confusion.

"What?"

"I don't know alright?" She snaps instantly and then softens, "Sorry, I'm just....confused I guess,"

"It's okay Ness," Rhona offers from the armchair, sipping her wine and Tracy nods sympathetically with her, "We just want you to be happy,"

"She, er...I think she said she loved me," Vanessa bites her lips, turning the stem of the wine glass in her fingers, "And I think I said it back,"

Vanessa eyes her sister and her friend warily, both of whom seem bemused and there’s a pause before Tracy responds, “You _think_?” Tracy’s quirks an eyebrow, “How do you _think_ you say you love someone?”

“Well, we were, er, y’know…” Vanessa instantly blushes at the thought of it; how much she’d wanted Charity, how she couldn’t stop touching every part of her and how she’d missed just feeling Charity’s heartbeat, warm skin under her lips. It was like exquisite torture to have her back and then lose her again so suddenly.

“So,” Rhona prods gently, “What happened….after?”

Vanessa looks down at the floor guiltily, “I left,” She winces internally at the memory, of leaving Charity in bed, knowing she was pretending to be asleep because the alternative hurt too much, “I was the one who broke it off,” Vanessa pauses, her speech becoming a whisper, “I hurt her _so_ much when I left and I don’t think I can repair what I’ve done, it’s gone too far,”

“What? So it’s easier to just go to London?” Tracy asks her gently, nudging her with her shoulder, “I know you had your reasons for breaking up and I know it’s nowt to do with me but...” Her sister waits for a moment, clearly judging the next words carefully, “She’d have you back in a second V, I know it,”

Vanessa breathes deeply and it feels like the weight of the world is bearing down on her, “I was so angry at her back then, angry at her for keeping things from me,” She had hated the lies and the second guessing and the games which she thought they had given up long ago, long before they were a proper _They_ , “I thought I was doing the right thing when I ended it, that it all just meant maybe we weren’t as perfect for each other as I thought,” Vanessa thinks back to the frustration, the exasperation they’d both felt at each other, neither willing to back down, to be seen as _weak_.

“And now?” Rhona asks her gently and a thousand different answers overwhelm her, all the different ways she had been so _wrong_ because they were (are) so _right_ for each other. 

“Now, I don’t know what to do,” She brings one of Rhona’s fluffy cushions on to her lap, curling herself around it, “She’s never going to see me the same way again,” The thought claws at her heart, “I’m like everyone else to her now, aren’t I? Leaving at the first sign of trouble?”

“Ness, that’s not what she thinks…”

“Isn’t it?” Vanessa berates herself, internally; she was supposed to be there for Charity, no matter what and instead, she ran when it got difficult and looked to London instead, “To her, I’m like the rest of them and I’ll never change that, not now,”

“So what was last night then?” Tracy points out, her inherent kindness trying to salvage something from the wreckage of her life, “You did sleep together…”

Vanessa shrugs, “I don’t know, some kind of goodbye I guess,” She looks out the window to the sky that she can just about see from her spot on the sofa; it’s a beautiful blue and she wonders what Charity’s doing, what she’s thinking; her mind is constantly on her (as always) even now, after everything.

*

Charity sees glimpses of her in the village over the next few weeks; a flash of her hair, the smell of her perfume a few moments after she’s left the café, her little blue car parked at the vets; but Charity steels herself and carries on because it’s what she’s always done and it’s what she’ll always do. 

She hadn’t even felt anger or rejection when Vanessa had crept out her room in the middle of the night; she had just stared at the moon, visible from her place in the bed, back to the door, eyes closed and waited. She’d waited until the sounds of footsteps had receded and then played every moment, every second back to herself so she couldn’t forget.

And it’s happening today; no-one’s told her explicitly of course, but there had been boxes and vans arriving at Tug Ghyll intermittently and the night before she had seen Tracy buying a bottle of Prosecco at David’s shop and she’d just _known_ as Tracy smiled a cautious, almost apologetic hello at her. 

Noah’s upstairs sulking despite only having been awake an hour and Moses is sat next to her at the table, throwing his breakfast around the kitchen with a grin on his face. 

“Come on Moz,” She suddenly hears the muffled sound of Noah’s voice through the closed door, “We’re going to see Ness,” 

Her youngest son’s face lights up at the mention of her.

Noah barely acknowledges her when he comes into the room to retrieve his brother, wiping his face quickly and hurriedly getting his shoes on. Moses complains as usual, desperate to do it himself and assert his independence, “Come on mate,” Noah tries to placate him as Moses fusses with the laces, “We’re not going to see her if you don’t let me do ‘em up for you,”

At this, Moses concedes victory and they’re out the door before Charity can get a word in, before she can apologise to a brooding Noah who’s hardly recognised her existence since she’d told him that she couldn’t stop Vanessa leaving ( _“I don’t understand you,” his face flushed with sadness or maybe anger, “Why can’t you just do something? Why aren’t you making it better?”_ ) and she’s left in the kitchen, with a cup of cold tea, staring at the floor intently as if it holds the answers to her life.

Her feet start moving before she’s realised what she’s doing and then she’s halfway to Tug Ghyll, shielding her eyes from the early morning sun; Vanessa’s car is parked up, full of boxes and the huddled figures of Tracy, Rhona and Frank hover by the gate, Vanessa at the centre, holding Johnny and her heart aches for wanting Vanessa the way she does.

Charity holds back as she spies Noah and Moses hugging her and Charity knows Vanessa’s wiping away tears from her eyes, putting Johnny to the ground so she can hold Moses properly.

“Chatty!”

Johnny barrels towards her as fast as his little legs can carry him and he smiles so genuinely at her, like she’s good and worthy and she kneels to the road as he throws himself into her arms, “Hey little man,” She greets him, hugging his body tightly; he smells of the baby shampoo she remembers is his favourite (from the Paw Patrol bottle and it smells like strawberries) and his chubby fingers grasp her hair. He murmurs “up” in her ear which she knows all too well means he wants to be held and she can’t help but indulge him. 

As she rises to her feet, she feels eyes on her but she hold Johnny close to her and he grins at her widely, "We goin' on a trip!" He announces with excitement, eyes wide, "Chatty comin'?"

The lump in her throat grows, "No, no, I'm not" At that, his face falls like she's told him he's not getting a puppy, "But you're going to have a great time aren’t you? You and mummy are going to have lots of fun,"

Johnny doesn't look persuaded and he reaches for her hair, twirling the ends between his fingers and looking at her with big eyes that he's inherited from his mother, "I wan' you ta come with us," He tells her firmly and Charity tries to smile, careful of the gazes watching her.

"You don't need me do you?" She rocks him gently, summoning a wide smile from somewhere inside her and he laughs as she pulls a face.

"Silly Chatty," He chuckles to himself, "You come an' see us?"

"Maybe," She manages; it's not a lie but it's not the truth either, "Maybe,"

Charity can feel her approach, at a safe distance, hovering with respect to the goodbye that Johnny doesn't know he's having. 

"Sorry..." Vanessa interrupts softly after a moment, "We, er, we have to make a move," Charity dares to take a glance at her; she looks like Vanessa, yellow coat and swishing ponytail, but it doesn't look like her at the same time; everything is different now and she hates it.

Charity nods in acknowledgement, tears welling at the corner of her eyes as she holds Johnny tightly, his little arms grip her fiercely, his face buried in her neck, "I love you," She whispers to him, "I love you _so_ much,"

He lets go, leaning back in the safety of her arms, "I love you too Chatty,"

And then Johnny's out of her arms too quickly, trotting back down the road; except Vanessa's still in front of her, seemingly unable to move from her spot, unable to tear her gaze away, like she wants to say something.

“Bye Charity," She says eventually and follows Johnny back down the road to where the car awaits.

"Bye Ness," She says quietly and turns to the pub without looking back.

*

After half an hour, Vanessa realises she's been driving without paying any real attention to the roads; she's been mindlessly following the directions of the sat-nav, lost in thoughts that she would do anything to avoid. 

She takes a glance in the rear view mirror and Johnny is sat in his car seat, happily chattering away to himself, a favourite toy in hand, one that she's sure Charity bought him. 

As she whizzes past the countryside, she thinks of everyone she's leaving behind; Tracy, her dad, Rhona. Her little Dingle family, Ryan, Paddy; everyone who really means something. And they had all been teary eyed and wishing her well but it felt like such a struggle to leave them; it had been so hard to try to redirect her sadness to the new job, the new surroundings, a way to get over _her_.

Except.

She's sure she saw it. On a chain round Charity's neck, hidden from sight but Vanessa knew the look of that ring anywhere; she'd spent days researching and practically interrogating the staff in the jewelry shops of Leeds about the cut and stone and carat. 

She thinks of the sunset walk, hand in hand, laughing about everything and nothing and the silver band had been such a shock to Charity, produced out of nowhere at the top of a hill with a panoramic view of the Dales. There had been damp grass pressing on Vanessa's bent knee and she had been cold without her coat but Vanessa knew it was all worth it (the look on Charity's face warmed every part of her) and the world had never felt more perfect.

And there she was, still wearing the ring, even now, after all this time.

_ What’s left unsaid will kill you. _

Before she realises it, she's approaching the roundabout that takes her to the motorway, and her eyes flit over the road sign whilst trying to listen to the sat-nav's stern directions, braking for the harried drivers around her who seems to know what they’re doing.

The battered weather beaten sign tells her that if she takes the last exit, it's only 35 miles back to Hotten. It also tells her that the first exit takes her south, to London to a new and different life for her son.

She flicks the indicator and heads towards what she hopes is her future.

*

“You okay?”

Charity looks to Debbie on the opposite side of the table; they’re outside the Woolpack and she’s being warmed by the sun, along with the presence of her three oldest sat around her. It means something to her, that they understand, that they _care_.

“Not really,” She shrugs, taking a sip of the soft drink in front of her, the distraction allowing her time to think about what to say, how to respond with an answer that doesn’t reveal her complete devastation. She swirls the liquid around the glass, idly poking the slice of lemon with the straw, “But I guess I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

Noah nudges her from his place next to her, both facing the door of the pub, watching locals go in and out without a care, “You’ll be okay mum, we all will,” He smiles at her shyly before looking at his siblings, “Did you say goodbye to her an’ all?”

“Yeah, she came over the other day,” Debbie sighs, looking out over the village, “”Jack and Sarah were proper upset but I think she managed to cheer them up by promising them a trip to London Zoo when they go down to visit,”

“Came to see me too,” Ryan adds from his seat next to Debbie, “No trips to the Zoo for me but she did say there’s always space to stay if I’m down for a gig,”

“Yeah, well, she’s good like that,” Charity finds herself saying and she’s holding back the tears that prick at her eyes, biting her tongue to just try to hold on to her composure until she’s alone.

Silence falls over the four of them and she takes comfort in her children being there with her, _wanting_ to be with her, _choosing_ it rather than because she’s begged it of them. The village is relatively quiet and she can hear birds tweeting nearby; if she just closes her eyes, just for a moment, she can pretend everything’s alright.

“Mum…” Debbie nudges her suddenly and then nudges her again before she nods over Charity’s shoulder and she’s confused as she turns to face the road and sees Vanessa’s blue Beetle, parked a few yards away, Vanessa shyly standing in front of it.

She’s off the bench in a moment; panic surges inside of her, _something has to be wrong_.

“What is it? You okay?” Her eyes are frantic, looking over Vanessa quickly to make sure she’s not hurt or ill, her gaze darts to the car seat that’s just visible, “Is it Johnny?” 

Charity can see tears in Vanessa’s eyes and the alarm swells and grows, “No, no, Johnny’s fine,” 

And it’s then that she notices that Vanessa’s staring at her so intently that it’s like she’s looking inside of her, at everything Charity fails to hide and conceal from her, “Are you alright?”

“No,” Vanessa says; there’s a step forward, closer to her, and then another, “I’m not,” Another step and they’re so close and Charity swallows deeply as Vanessa takes a breath, her hand reaching forward for contact with Charity’s and their fingers link in the comfortable way that they always used to, “I can’t do this Charity, I can’t be without you,”

Something like hope blooms inside of her.

“I know it was my decision for us to split up but god…” She looks to the sky ruefully, “It was such a mistake,” Charity’s heart is pounding so loudly that she’s sure the whole village must be able to hear it, “And I know I hurt you. But if there’s _any_ way you might still want me then I….”

“Of course I do,” Charity interjects quietly, squeezing Vanessa’s fingers gently “I want you Ness, _always_ ,”

There’s something like hope on Vanessa’s face too now.

“So, does that mean, do you want to get back toge-“

“Yes,” Charity’s bursting to say it, unable to hold back and let Vanessa finish. She needs to say it, not only for Vanessa but for herself. 

And then Vanessa’s in her arms and she can breathe again.

*

They avoid each other as much as they can when they’re living together and in a small village.

Charity looks at the clock on the wall, counting the hours (ten) since she’s last seen Vanessa, “Mum, don’t move,” Debbie admonishes her from her position next to her at the dressing table, strands of hair held in different fingers, “If you keep doin’ that, I’m going to have to start again aren’t I?”

“For the third time,” Sarah pipes up from behind them with a wicked smile and then taking another photo of them on her phone; she hasn’t stopped all morning and whilst Charity’s grumbled about it, she knows she will be grateful later when she can remember every single second of it.

Charity sits patiently until Debbie deems her work of art to be complete and she stands in front of the mirror, appraising herself in her white low cut suit.

Today is the day she marries Vanessa.

And after the vows and the tears and the ridiculous, cheeky speeches from Noah and then Ryan and a slightly more serious speech from Frank and then back to an embarrassing one from Tracy, she’s sat alone (finally) at a table with her new wife, the guests dancing away, somewhat drunkenly, in front of them.

“Perfect isn’t it?” Charity whispers, her lips pressed up against Vanessa’s ear and a shiver runs down them both at the contact and she’s seriously considering whether it’s too early to drag Vanessa away to their hotel room.

“Yeah, it is,” Vanessa’s eyes shine and it’s like the sun has come out when she smiles at her, “ _You’re_ perfect,”

Vanessa’s love is given so freely and openly, with no expectations or anything needed in return and it still sometimes takes her breath away at the vastness of it. Vanessa loves her _because_ of her faults, not in spite of them and she can’t help but smile back, their hands intertwined and her wedding ring sparkles in the light.

“ _We’re_ perfect for each other,” Charity tells her.

And they really are.


End file.
